by Willow Hayes
The guys and I have surrounded the girls as they danced, as if marking them both as ours. A man begins to approach, but catches the look on my face which likely shows a level of possession I have no right to feel and quickly turns away. Right or wrong, I have no intention of watching Kenna dance with any man that isn’t one of my brothers.
I draw closer to where she is and exchange a look with her friend who smiles and spins Kenna right into my arms. I smirk and extend my hand, “Care to dance?” Her answering smile leaves me captivated. Instead of taking my hand she steps in and drapes her arms around my neck, and her touch sends sparks down my spine. Her curvy and lithe body is so small in my much larger frame, but she fits as if she was made to be there. As she moves against me my desire for her builds. I grab her hips and draw her back against my body. I move my hands up her hips, skating up her sides, and guide her arms to wrap around my neck where she rakes her fingers through my hair, sending chills down my spine. Her chest is thrust up with the movement, and my eyes trace the shape of her. She’s perfect. I move my hand down to her stomach to pull her closer, and we move like this as I get lost in her body. Her arousal mixed with her light neroli scent is a heady cocktail. She lets me set the rhythm and moves when I move. Her simple submission has my blood humming.
Callum approaches with an eyebrow raised in question, and I reluctantly spin Kenna into his waiting arms, already feeling the loss. As I watch the ever quiet Callum spin Kenna around the dance floor I can see the restraint he always keeps in place, but I can also see that he enjoys the feel of her. She seems to push him, almost challenge him.
I turn to study the guys as they dance and see that they are either dancing alone or with Rya, but they are as drawn to Kenna as I am. Ironic given that I assumed Teo and Luka would each find a woman, or one to share, for the evening. However, once they laid eyes on Kenna it was game over. The playboys are getting schooled. I chuckle to myself, but when my gaze returns to Kenna I see her bent over in pain. My heart stops, and I rush over. “What’s wrong?” She seems unable to answer the question, and lets out a gasp of pain as she nearly crumples to the floor. Then it’s as though the pain vanishes as quickly as it began, and she starts to breathe again.
When she looks up her eyes are glassy with pain and her breathing ragged as she rushes to report that she’s fine. The pain may be gone, but something was definitely wrong, and she needs to see a doctor. She asks Rya to take her home, the panic in her eyes making it obvious that she needs to leave immediately. We say our goodbyes, and I watch as the woman we all can’t get enough of walks out the door, feeling helpless to stop it. We all decide to call it a night after watching Kenna walk away.
We are a somber group when we get back to the house and go our separate ways. I know the guys and their reactions. This feels personal to each of us which doesn’t make sense. We’ve known Kenna for a mere few hours, but she seems to have made a lasting impression.
I change and head to the gym to work out some of the excess energy the evening has left me with. When I arrive I see Teo had the same idea and has already started. His face is focused and full of frustration as he hits the punching bag. I’m getting ready to hit the bag, but stop when I feel a searing pain on my wrist. It feels as though someone has stuck a white hot brand on me. Teo grunts in pain, and I hear a muttered, “Fuck.” I echo the sentiment. The pain is gone as quickly as it came on.
I take a few deep breaths only to have the breath knocked right out again when I look at my wrist to find the mark of the Chosen. I stare unblinking, trying to process what I’m seeing when Callum and Luka rush into the gym asking if we have one too.
Always the first to speak up Teo asks, “How is this even possible? There has to be some mistake.”
Callum in his smooth voice agrees, “It should not be possible, but the marks are never wrong. Someone we interacted with tonight is royalty.”
“So what does this mean? What happened to trigger this?” Luka asks.
The guys spend some time discussing the why, the how, and what to do now when it occurs to me who it must have been. I interrupt, “It was Kenna.”
“That’s not possible, she’s human,” Teo argues.
“I watched you guys with her all evening. You spent the night watching her and were drawn to her. I was no different, and you can’t tell me you weren't,” I respond to the look on Callum’s face before he can protest. “Tell me, how did it feel when she touched each of you?” I can take a fair guess at what their answers will be, but I want to be sure. A look of surprise and then contemplation crosses each face.
“Like she stirred fire in my blood, fire that turned me the fuck on,” Teo responds first.
“When I touched her I felt sparks, and it was like Teo said, I wanted her,” Luka says.
“Fire licked across my skin where she touched me,” Callum reluctantly offers.
“And I felt the same. This can’t be a coincidence. All four of us drawn to her and having the same intense reaction. Fire,” I try to reason with them.
“She was sexy, and I was drawn to her sure, but she’s human, so I can’t imagine how this would even be possible?” Teo’s eyebrows are drawn together as we puzzle this out.
“If it is Kenna and if the marks are always right, we need to get to her and figure out what is happening. Problem is we don’t know her last name or have a way to contact her,” Luka chews on his glasses in thought as he rambles. “I’ll work on trying to track her down through any computer records I can find. I’ll start with social workers in the area, and hopefully we’ll get a hit. It’ll be tough, but I think I can find her,” he says, his voice full of positivity.
“And if it is not her?” Callum challenges.
Luka, undeterred by his challenge says, “If it isn’t Kenna we will have to find a way to track down who was at the club tonight. If we find her first we’ll know whether we need to put in the work to track down the other club patrons or not.”
By the gods, I hope Luka can find her and quickly.
Six
Kenna
I’m running down a stone hallway, and I call out in a child’s voice, “Hello? Is anyone there?” I don’t like the dark, it’s scary. Running, I slip on something and fall to the ground. It hurt my knees and my hands. I pull my hands up to look at them, and they are covered in something sticky. When I look closer I find that it’s blood. I scream for my mommy, but no one answers. Now, someone is chasing me in the hallway, and a hand wraps around my mouth and yanks me into a room. I try to scream, but nothing comes out.
The stone melts away and becomes a hallway in a house. My heart squeezes painfully because I know this house. I hate this house. I quietly call out, “Hello?” Then a hand wraps over my mouth, and breath skitters across my neck. I know what’s coming, and I can’t stay here. I try to escape his hands, but they are too strong. I hear his voice in my ear, “It’s all your fault.”
I jerk upright in bed breathing harshly and covered in sweat. I grip Akito close with shaky hands. The nightmare leaves me feeling unsettled. The house I dream of all too frequently, but the bloody hallway is new and frightening. “That one sucked, Akito,” I whisper, my voice shaking and breathy. “I dreamt of the bastard’s house, but it was different this time, scarier.”
I bury my face in his fur trying to calm my racing heart. I have told Akito about the things that happened in that house, and somehow I think he understands when I tell with things, or at least I want to believe he does. He wraps himself tighter around me in response to my words. “I was running down some hallway, and there was so much blood. It was so confusing. The club. The mark. The nightmare. It’s all been scary and unsettling, and I just wish I knew what it all meant.” My voice cracks with emotion, and Akito lifts his head to lick my cheek.
I give him a weak smile and kiss the top of his head. “Shall we try to get a bit more sleep?” His kind and intelligent eyes watch me carefully before he butts his head against mine as if to say he would follow me anywhere,
including sleep.
“Come on, Sparkles. I have let you laze around all weekend, but today I’m buying you coffee. I swear there will be no talking, or even thinking about, your mysterious mark, so get your ass moving!” Rya, my sunshine personified friend, is a morning person, much to my never ending aggravation, and is currently poking me repeatedly as I hide under the blankets.
I am still exhausted from the events of the weekend, and the nightmares haunting my sleep. I have never been one to put much stock in dreams, but the hallway feels too real. I have dreamt of it every night which leaves me fretting about what it all means. However, the promise of coffee lures me out, and I lug myself out of bed to start getting ready.
Standing in the bathroom after my shower I stare at my reflection, and the golden peaks visible above my towel. I let the it fall to the floor as I reach out to caress the image once more. I would find it beautiful if it didn’t scare me so much. I trace the outline of the crown and touch each brilliant ruby, watching the gold ripple in response to my touch and wonder once more what it means. Shaking myself out of my reverie I quickly braid my hair and head for my closet. I select a dark blue t-shirt shirt that will cover the mark entirely and some jeans then meet Rya in the living room.
In Rya’s car we blare the music with the windows down. It makes me feel human again, even if only for a moment. We pull up to the coffee shop, and while Rya gets in line I snag us a table. She walks over a few minutes later with our drinks. I pick up my cup and smell it, humming my appreciation. Rya laughs at me, her eyes sparkling with mirth, and sips hers.
We talk about normal things, which definitely does not include the crown on my chest, or the events at the club. “My mom called yesterday,” she pauses with a slight grimace. “She asked, again, when I was going to find a good dryad boy and settle down.” I grimace in sympathy for her. Her mom pestered her about settling into a proper dryad job for years, but now that she owns the nursery, and is doing something she loves, which also happens to be what her mother would call a proper dryad job, she has begun to hound her about dating.
I commiserate with her about the pressure her mother puts on her, but secretly I desperately wish I had a mother to hound me to find a nice human boy to settle down with. I change the subject before my thoughts drift too far down the self-pity path. “How are things going at the nursery? Do you need any help.”
“Sparkles, you have too much on your plate as it is. Besides, things are good at the nursery, but I promise to ask if I do need help,” Rya says with an eye roll and a laugh.
I laugh, but I can’t disagree with her. My life is insanely busy, and that’s how I like it. I have a ton of energy that needs to be spent, and keeping busy prevents me from focusing on things I can’t have. I bring up the safe topic of the weekend, the guys, “I’m still bummed about having to leave the club like that because I had every intention of taking one of them home.”
“Is that so? And which one of us were you planning on taking home?” asks a deep voice behind me, making me jump and let out an undignified squeak.
I feel the flush moving up my neck and turn to see Teo looking effortlessly sexy in a fitted black Henley, one hand in the pocket of his dark jeans, and the other holding his coffee, standing with the rest of the guys looking mighty pleased with himself.
As I look, I am reminded of just how delicious they are. They look as mouthwatering in casual clothes as they did at the club. Nakoa is smiling, his dark hair loose around his shoulders, wearing black cargo pants and boots topped with a dark gray fitted t-shirt that hugs his large frame, showing off the runes on his arms that were covered at the club. He gives meaning to the phrase ‘he’s cut,’ as the sleeves of his shirt struggle to contain the width of his biceps.
Luka wears a cheeky grin, tousled hair, a fitted royal blue t-shirt under a black leather jacket, and faded jeans. Callum looks much the same with a serious, but not unkind look on his face. Today his hair is down, and his jerkin is hunter green with beautiful black detailed stitching running along where it fastens over black trousers and black lace up leather boots that remind me of Noella’s.
My memories did not do them justice, and for that matter, neither did my fantasies, and oh boy did they visit my fantasies frequently. I feel my center respond to my naughty thoughts and Teo’s deep voice, but I tell my hormones to take a hike. While having my foray down fantasy lane I see Teo’s nostrils flare, weird. I have to clear my throat before any sound will come out, all the while Rya is laughing hysterically at me. I flip her the bird as I’m finally able to speak, “I hadn’t decided yet. I suppose you’ll just have to compete to make the cut.” Teo only smirks and shoots me a wink as if to say he knows he’s already made the cut.
Nakoa sobers slightly from the smile he was wearing and asks if they could join us? We move to a larger table outside. Once we are all settled, feeling unaccountably shy, I fiddle with my braid and my cup. My eyes flit around until they drift to where the guys each hold their coffees, remembering how much I enjoyed the sight of their forearms.
Only to find on each of their wrists the same goddamn mark as the one on my chest. I am gobsmacked, and for a moment I don’t know what to say. Eventually I find my voice, “What. The. Fuck. Are. Those?” I manage to get out through clenched teeth as I forcefully gesture to the mark on their wrists. I can feel my body heat with my frustration of being put into another situation with these guys. Sexy or not, if they are the cause of all this shit I don’t want anything to do with them.
Luka speaks up and asks, “Do you have the same mark?” His eyes lighting up with something I can’t define, which only serves to piss me off more. I glare at him unwilling to answer his question.
Nakoa takes a deep breath before he speaks, “This is the mark of the Chosen. The mark denotes when a member of the royal lineage selects her Chosen Guard.”
There is so much in that statement I don’t even know where to start. I can feel my anger rising, and my blood boiling. “Okay, so first of all what the fuck? Why is my mark on my chest while yours are all on your wrists? By Hades! Why would I be chosen as a guard, and what the fuck are the Chosen?” I fire questions at him rapidly, desperately trying to stave off a panic attack. Rya gives my hand a comforting squeeze, and I take a deep breath.
“The Chosen are members of a royal’s personal guard. Her magic, having identified something in that guard she will need for protection or guidance, marks the guard, and they become her Chosen.” Nakoa is careful to keep his tone even and gentle as if talking to a wild animal, which I probably resemble at the moment, “Kenna, you aren’t a Chosen. You are the royal who marked us.”
I stare blankly at him for a few moments. “You are out of your goddamn mind! I’m not even magical, so how the fuck could I even be royal? Is this your idea of a joke? Because I don’t think it’s even remotely funny.” My face is flush with my anger because this has to be some messed up joke. There is no way that I marked them.
Rya’s voice is quiet but firm when she says, “Kenna, maybe you should hear them out? They might have answers.” I turn my glare on her, hurt that she would side with them, but she is unfazed by my anger.
Nakoa’s chocolate eyes fill with a compassion I can’t handle right now, so I look away. “We don’t know why, and we don’t know what’s going on, but we hoped we could figure it out together. Can you tell us about your mark?”
I try to decide if I’m going to tell them about what happened because honestly a part of me thinks they are crazy. The idea of a tattoo showing up on its own is a fuck ton easier to swallow than this insane idea that I am somehow royalty and magical. “The first mark showed up at the club. You all saw it go down,” I say, my voice full of resignation, having decided to share.
“The first mark?” Nakoa asks with confusion on his face, leaning in.
“Well I suppose it was just the first part of the mark. When I left the bar I had the outline of the crown only. Later, at home, I noticed the mark for the first time, and the mom
ent I touched it the crown filled in and added the rubies.” I pull my collar down to show them the mark that sits atop my heart.
“That must be when the marks showed up on us. It didn’t happen until later in the evening. Somehow I think your touch on the mark activated the bond.” Nakoa’s voice is contemplative.
All I caught from that was the word bond. “What the fuck do you mean by bond?”
Nakoa looks surprised by my outburst, but explains, “When the Chosen are selected it forms a bond between the royal and her Chosen.”
My heart slams in my chest because a bond sounds a whole lot like some sort of relationship or maybe even servitude. I don’t do relationships, and I certainly don’t do complicated. On top of that, there is just no way I can be royalty or magical. I can feel a panic attack creeping up. “You are out of your damn minds! I can’t handle this right now.” I barely register the surprise and shock on their faces in my rush to get away before I am lost to the panic.
Rya is there the next moment, and I find myself ushered once again into Rya’s car on the verge of having a panic attack. I feel ashamed that I couldn’t stay and finish the conversation, but my brain can’t wrap around this whole crazy thing.
Seven
Kenna
I drag myself out of bed feeling hungover, but without the fun stories from the night before. My anxiety and the nightmares robbing me of sleep have taken their toll. I turn away from my reflection in the mirror, refusing to acknowledge the existence of the mark. The shower’s hot water helps to wake me up though as I step out my gaze gravitates to the mirror once more, and the mark I’ll see there. It pulls at me, beckoning me to the world that could be mine if only I were to choose it.